


Voracious

by Saskiel



Series: FFxivWrite2019 [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 05:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20577581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saskiel/pseuds/Saskiel





	Voracious

It has been two months since you were able to return from the First back to the Source. But you found yourself coming back more often than you were willing to admit. To see your friends, help them find a way back - you’d say to anyone who would ask you. And while that was true, you knew that there was something else drawing you back, time after time after time. Or rather someone.

That someone would always be there when you’d cross through the portal, no matter the time of the day as if he was waiting for you. You would greet each other, exchange a few sentences and then you’d go on your way for the day before you’d meet for a meal together.

For whatever bizarre reason, traveling to First in this way always left you completely ravenous. When you first shared this with the Exarch, he invited you to dinner. And after that, it became your thing.

You stepped through the portal and shivered a bit in the chilly air of the crystal tower, your clothes soaked.

“I take there was a down-pour on the Source?” the Exarch asks you with a smile, walking in the room as soon as your feet touch the floor.

“It came out of nowhere, there was no rain predicted, if I knew I’d have gone sooner, but nope,” you manage to squeeze out, unhappy. You promised Alisaie to meet her on this day and so you walk straight to the door.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, as usual?”

Exarch’s uncertain voice stops you in your tracks before you glance back, some of the bitterness vanishing from your face. “Yes, I shall be there,” you say with a smile, enjoying the way his ears perk up with your confirmation.

***

When you walk into the private dining room later that evening, the table is already full of delicious-looking food. The Exarch is sitting in a chair facing the entrance, but his gaze turns down to a book that he’s currently reading.

You sit opposite of him, reaching for a plate to put your dinner on. You spend some time in a comfortable silence as you start eating.

“Did you had a pleasant day with Alisaie?” He asks you, only half paying attention as his eyes still skim across the words and diagrams that you caught a glimpse of earlier.

His question makes you look at him, the piece of roasted popoto forgotten half-way to your mouth.

You don’t recall telling him where you were headed today. You glance to your side, where you know the main room with the portal is. You’ve seen how he can conjure up images of the current happenings. Slowly, you turn your head back to his unsuspecting figure.

“Are you spying one me, Exarch?” Your voice holds a certain edge to it, making your companion gasp ever so slightly.

“Aaah, no, of course, I wouldn’t, I- Lyna told me where you were heading,” with his nervous chuckle, you can tell he is lying as he is scratching himself behind one ear, not really meeting your eyes.

Even without the power of the Echo, you can imagine him checking in on you throughout the day. For a moment, it makes you happy. That there is someone who cares about you this much.

Just as much as you care about him.

But then you remember all the nights here at the First when you were lonely in your room and decided to take some of your worries away with self-pleasure. Was he watching back then? That thought starts a fire in you. A pleasant one, as it spreads from your stomach downwards, giving you thoughts more delicious than the food you’ve just consumed.

You stand up and prowl your way to Exarch. His eyes are fixated on your form, seemingly incapable of moving away. Taking the book out of his limp hands, you lay it on the table as you move to straddle the man. His arms twitch as if he wanted to hold you, but then he casts his gaze down in a shy gesture.

“Whatever am I going to do with you, G’raha Tia,” intertwining your fingers in his hair, you make him look back to you before you kiss the hopeful expression out of his face.

Sometime during your kissing, he places his palms, one warm and one cold, on your back, drawing you closer. You only break the connection when you need some air in your lungs.

“You are voracious,” he whispers, making it sound like a promise of things to come.


End file.
